Since my birth I have had no single defining moment, no tragedy, epiphany, or periods of absolute elation or depression. I have learned, loved, succeeded and failed, but my experiences and life lessons have been more commonplace than Hollywood. I am, by my approximation, a product of everyday life, shaped slowly but surely by people, events, and circumstances that, to most others, seem rather ordinary.

In eighth grade, I wrote an essay on Jack London’s novel, Call of the Wild, that subsequently helped alter the direction of my career aspirations. The paper was succinctly graded by my teacher Ms. Bonner; it had an “A” with a circle around it, short comments and underlines within the paper’s margin, and a laconic message on the last page: “Can I keep?” It did not take long for me to take this early success and build upon it. It was not at this moment that I first realized I enjoyed writing; I had known that for years prior, ever since I provided the blurbs for the comics my best friend and I co-produced. Rather, I realized that I could be a thoroughly successful writer, at both a personal and academic level. I began to log regular entries into a personal journal to develop my written voice. I have since broadened myself by writing poetry, blog entries, and even early screenwriting, while continuing to excel at academic research papers and essays. To credit all my interests and successes in writing to a single eighth grade essay would be short sighted, as there have been many other positive influences throughout my life, but it was a catalyst; it was the type of event in memory that oddly changed my own perceptions about my abilities and who I could be. It is often surprising what a little reinforcement can do; an admittedly commonplace, but undeniably defining moment brought upon a major development in my life. Ms. Bonner, and the paper itself, fostered a change in interest and academic focus that indirectly strengthened my ability to succeed in the professional world.

As was the case in my youth, it has been the little things that have continued to define me. During the summer of 2009, I interned at a small local law firm, doing clerical and administrative work, and legal research. It was a learning experience, one punctuated, oddly enough, by a brown paper napkin. One afternoon, the interns had been tasked to find out what outstanding tax fees two companies owed in order to revive each corporation. Phoning the California Tax Board and Secretary of State's Office was not a very difficult task, but it was one that my fellow interns avoided because it meant going out of a comfort zone and also being put on hold for something like an eternity. I ended up making three calls that day that lasted close to three hours in total. I negotiated for the necessary documents to be faxed, along with handwritten calculations, provided by the kind fellows at the tax board, whom I had asked to estimate the total cost for revival. It took a bit of prodding, but the estimations of hard numbers were made and finally sent over. The next day, upon checking my tray in the office, I noticed a brown paper napkin had been left there. On the napkin was a written note, a few lines of messy-yet-legible writing, which stated the faxed information was far more comprehensive than expected, and that my effort and persistence had been appreciated. It was not a chest-bumping, crowd arousing sequence, but it was one that instilled quiet confidence that said something along the lines of: "Yeah, you have potential." Much like Ms. Bonner's short and profound request, an abbreviated message made all the difference between the everyday and something entirely more memorable.

Perhaps my life has progressed sans an encompassing defining moment, but it has not been short on smaller, yet just-as-meaningful ones. It has been this accumulation of the "little" things in life that has propelled me to pursue a career in law, while also providing me the confidence to move on to the next modest-but-defining moment, or perhaps, newer, and decidedly bigger things.